The God Games
by GypsyReaper
Summary: 300 X Predator crossover. Every 100 years, the gods come to challenge the Spartans to the most epic fighting match of their lives, and the winner decides Sparta's fate-this time, it's Leonidus' turn to do battle!
1. Chapter 1

"The God Games"

Introduction

For many centuries, if one wished to face the most fearsome warriors in the Mediterranaen, one would travel to the small city-state of Sparta. The Spartans were powerful warriors whose kings were said to be decended from Hercules himself, and each man was easily worth several other normal men in battle. So, it was only a matter of time before the Spartans found themselves challenged for this title. However, this challenge was not issued from other men-it came from the very gods!

Once, many many decades ago, the gods came down from their heavenly abode in shining chariots of metal and thunder. They shared the form of man, but their faces were covered in masks, for no mortal can gaze upon the face of a god and live. They spoke the langauge of birds and snakes as well as man, talking in clicks and hisses. They defeated every Spartan whom they challenged, until they challenged the Spartan king, Histinos. The trial was simple-if Histinos lost, the gods would take the remainder of Sparta as their reward, the people to be slaves to their strange and mysterious masters for all time.

Histinos won against his challengers, but not without the cost of his eye during the battle. The gods, partially in anger and partially in respect, told the Spartan king that they would return in a hundred years' time for yet another challenge. And so, once every one hundred years when the moon grows full and the air warmer than usual, the gods return in the now traditional battle between themsevles and the Spartans.

This tradition is now known as the God Games...


	2. Chapter 2

"The God Games"

Chapter One: The Messenger

Thrust, duck, backslash, swing, parry, roll. The warrior somersaulted across the sand, slashing his sword at an unseen enemy as he rolled before jumping to his feet with enough grace to put a gymnast to shame. Sweat covered the naked chest with a fine sheen over the hardened muscles there. Black hair hung limply to his broad shoulders, covering his face for a moment as he regained his breath before dodging to the side.

From the shadows of the pillars stood a beautiful woman, who watched the man with pride and love. Her simple gown of beige highlighted her dark hair that lay just past shoulder length. She narrowed her dark eyes when sand flew up after another roll, but couldn't help but grin. Even at the ripe old age of thirty, her husband could make even her reserved blood boil with passion.

"My Queen," said a deep, quiet voice. The woman turned to see another man approach her. He was the same age as her husband, and had the same fine physique of any well-to-do Spartan. He had a goatee of solid black, and neatly combed short, black hair.

"Captain Artemis," Queen Gorgo whispered, and bowed. She tried not let her husband know of their presence, it threw off his concentration.

"I need to have a word with King Leonidus," the Captain said quietly but firmly. "Do you know when I can have an audience with him...?"

"You can say your piece now, old friend." Artemis and Gorgo looked to see Leonidus looking at them, standing still yet his chest still rising and falling quickly from his exercising, hands on his hips, eyes stern but mouth curved in a curious grin. "What is it?"

"There's a messenger waiting for you," Captain Artemis said slowly.

"A messenger from whom?" Gorgo asked, the Captain turning to her. He had a look of slight confusion on his features when he replied, "From the Ephors, m'lady."

"The Ephors? Those leperous relics?" Leonidus asked, thinking that perhaps he had heard wrong. "Though Spartan they may be, they don't offer assistance unless consulted and bribed for it. What could they want?" This last part was spoken to himself rather than to his wife or captain. He walked past them to the open courtyard where the Ephor's messenger supposedly waited.

A cloaked figure sat waiting on the steps outside of the courtyard. The figure rose when Leonidus approached, and bowed to him, the Queen, and the Captain.

"My king, my lady, good sir," said a girl's voice. "I bring a message from my masters, the Ephors."

"And what was deemed so important by those inbred swine that they sent down one of their slave-girls?" Artemis asked harshly, his distaste for the old priests quite noticable.

Leonidus had slightly more tact than his captain, but said nothing to him about it right then. "What is this message you deliver?" he asked firmly.

"The Hundred Year Moon approaches, my king," the girl said quietly. "You would do best to think of preparing yourself and your warriors for the battle to come."

"Is that a threat?" Artemis asked quietly, dangerously. The hooded figure began to tremble when he took a step toward her, but Leonidus put out his hand, a command to halt.

"You are a good friend and good captain, but at this rate I'll never get the message if you continue to threaten the messenger. Wait outside, Artemis." There was no questioning his tone; the King had spoken. The Captain glared one last time at the girl before turning, biege colored cape flying in his wake.

"I sometimes think that if he didn't think of every situation like a Captain, he would go crazy, husband," Gorgo teased quietly, gently. Leonidus took the hint; he would go talk to his friend and perhaps apologize. 'Perhaps' being the operative word.

"Now, for you," he said to the hooded girl. "Finish your message, and stop with the riddles already. What do you mean, 'The Hundred Years Moon'?"

"I mean what I say, my Lord. Have you noticed that, though the time for falling leaves is soon upon us, the air retains the warmth of earlier summer days? The moon that comes once a century will soon come over the horizon, and with it-the metal and thunder chariot of the gods!"

Leonidus was a hardened Spartan King, but that last statement made a chill race up his powerful spine. "How certain are your masters?" he asked calmly while Gorgo looked between them, slightly confused. She was glad her husband knew what was going on, at least, although this sounded vaguely familiar...

"They read the stars numerous times, and consulted the Oracle even more to be sure, my King."

Leonidus stroked his clean shaven chin in thought. "Is that all?"

The girl bowed. "'Raise your soldiers quickly, for when the next moon rises, they will arrive.' That is the entire message, my King."

He waved her away. "Return to them and thank them for the message." The hooded figure bowed again and ran across the courtyard until she bounded through the gates and was gone.

"When the next moon rises, they will arrive," Gorgo repeated. "Leonidus, do you mind explaining now?"

He looked at his wife for a moment, before turning to look over the courtyard and the city's walls outside. "Every century they return, bound by honor, to battle against the strongest warriors we offer. And now, its our turn." He turned to her, the familiar flame of blood lust dancing in his eyes. "It's our turn to play in the God Games, my queen. When the moon rises again, we'll have a little more company than usual." He grinned at her. "Yes, a little company can brighten even the dullest day!"


	3. Chapter 3

"The God Games"

Chapter Two: War Drums

"The-the God Games!" the Captain stuttered. Leonidus couldn't tell if the stutter came from surprise-or excitement. Most likely the latter.

"Yes, the God Games. Is that a problem, Captain?"

Artemis looked at his king as though he had lost his mind. "A problem? How can such an honor be a problem?"

"That's just the response I was looking for," Leonidus said, clapping a hand on the other's back. "So, I want you to go and find me all the able-bodied fighters in the city and bring them here. Then we'll go to the field outside of the city's walls. There will be our practice field. If those inbred priests are right, we haven't much time."

"And what shall I tell them if they ask what for?"

Leonidus paused, then grinned. "Tell them that if they're willing to give up their lives for honor and glory, they will come, and I will explain myself. Go now."

Artemis nodded once and strode off. If he were an impatient youth, he might have even bounded off at a dead run, but he could contain himself enough to walk-though he was almost power-walking down the steps into the city.

"If the Ephors are as corrupt as has been said, why would they even send us word, Leonidus?" his wife asked as she stood leaning against a pillar.

"Survival. They're supposed to uphold the old ways-if the gods suddenly arrived and found that they weren't doing their job, there'd be a problem. The gods wouldn't care for priests who slacked on the job," Leonidus said, a small smile at that thought. He wished they would get killed; it would make his job so much easier sometimes. However, they were, regretfully, as much of tradition as the Agoge. "At least they've already given their blessings for battle," he said.

"How long do you think we have?" Gorgo asked.

Leonidus shrugged. "A week, a day, an hour? Not even the lepers can tell. The sooner we get ready, the better."

"When do you plan on telling the city?"

Leonidus glanced at his wife. "I've already sent messengers throughout Sparta, telling them to come to the city steps at dusk. There I will reveal this most excellent news!"

"What about the rest of Greece? The Athenians-"

"The Athenians..." Leonidus said with a snarl, "...would not know the difference between a god and a drunkard. We will tell them nothing! This glory is Sparta's and Sparta's alone!"

Gorgo bowed her head, and left her husband. Though she was Queen, she was still a woman, and thus had to accept the rule of her King. Secretly, she agreed with her husband, but one must always bring forth unpleasant thinkings in such important decisions.

His wife gone, Leonidus looked towards the sky, and breathed in a deep breathe of fresh autumn air. His heart was pounding in his chest. Sweat was falling down his back; how had he not realized it was too hot for that time of year? He smiled, and realized he was going to be full of nervous energy until they came. The gods of old. He prayed they would arrive soon.

Dusk was upon the city when over two hundred of the strongest, swiftest, and most cunning Spartan fighters came before the King's steps, all dressed in the red cloak of battle, swords, shields, and spears at the ready. As his eyes swept over the faces of the men that would serve in Sparta's greatest legacy, it did not surprise him to see young Delios and Stelios in the crowd. Both were superb up-and-coming fighters, Stelios more tenacious in battle, but Delios was as determined as any man would be to win. They would give the gods a hell of a fight!

Leonidus stood before them, and saw many more of Spartan's citizens behind the waves of red, awaiting Leonidus's proclamation. "War" was on the lips and minds of all the Spartans, no doubt. Leonidus smiled.

"Spartans!" he roared, his deep voice thundering overhead with little effort. Any conversation below stopped immediately. "My people," He said, "We have been blessed with strength no other state can boast of." He paused for a moment. "All who utter the name 'Sparta' tremble with fear, and shame of their weakness!" There was a roar of agreement among the warriors, and the civilians.

"The time has come, Spartans! The Gods will return shortly; the time of the God Games is upon us once more! You have been chosen to represent Sparta in this most glorious of battles!"

There was a stunned silence among both the men and the citizens. Leonidus allowed the silence to continue for a moment. Suddenly, he picked up his spear, which was lying beside him, and his helmet. He donned the helmet, and looking around at his warriors, hefted the spear into the air with a roar.

"We have been chosen, Spartans! We, and we alone have been challenged to a battle of skill, of perseverance, of determination, and we will not retreat!

"Our lives for Sparta!" the men cried without hesitation, Stelios' cry loud enough to be carried over the sea of voices.

"We will not surrender!" Leonidus roared, hefting up the spear after every exclamation.

"Our lives for Sparta!"

"We will fight with honor, with glory, and we will not fail!"

"Our lives for Sparta!" the men began to bang their spear-heads against the heavy bronze shields, the sound of the Spartan War Drums resounding over the land. Those in other city-states in Greece could hear the thunder on the horizon, and wondered when the storm would strike.


	4. Chapter 4

"The God Games"

Chapter Three: Preparations

Sparta became a bee hive of activity after the king's proclamation. _The God Games are upon us!_ many whispered excitedly. All the Spartan woman, along with the helots, began to gather the food needed to make a most glorious feast for the gods' arrival. The children were sent with the men who were not chosen to be in the tournament to the fields to watch the practices.

Leonidus watched them constantly, his eyes filled with pride and determination. Men were doing drills with the Captain: running the terrain in full battle gear, throwing heavy stones as far as possible, forming into lines and trying to bash down trees with their shields, swimming laps upon laps in the small lake near the city. Spartans fought each other in mock battles, some with armor and weapons, other in unarmed melee combat. There was no rest, and rations consisted of the typical war rations: bits of dried fruit, and thin squares of bread and water. The days were long and the nights of exhausted sleep were short; Captain woke them up well before dawn for more drills, more practice.

The King himself was not immune to these drills. As every king before him who had fought in the Games, the entire land of Sparta weighed on his shoulders heavily. After all, no matter how well his men fought, no matter how many lived or died, won or was defeated, the Games ended with he and Ares' battle.

Ares was the God of War, the God of Bloodshed, of Conquest. He was feared by all who fought in battle, for his wrath and power were not to be undermined. For the past many centuries, the same being had lead this band of god-like entities from the heavens to Sparta. He was twice as tall as any Spartan soldier, and head-and-shoulders above any who followed him. Around his waist hung a belt of skulls, the trophies of those he had vanquished. He was faster, stronger, and more cunning than any mortal man. A creature such as this could only be kin of or Ares himself. And it was King Leonidus' honor and destiny to do battle with him, as all the previous kings in the Games had.

A few days later, Leonidus looked over his camp. Some where resting, the sweat poring from the morning's exercises and drills. Stelios and a few others where polishing their helmets and shields with sand (a Spartan would never disgrace himself by going to war with dirty weapons or shield). Many of them had the beginnings of dark circles around their eyes. The constant exercise was starting to take a toll on them, even on their hardened spartan bodies. They needed their spirits lifted; if the gods came now, they would be sorely disappointed in the lack of challenge.

"Captain!"

Captain Artemis quickly strode over to Leonidus, looking around and trying to see what had caused his king to call out. "My King?"

"Remove your cloak," Leonidus said, with a small, mischievous grin. The request caught Artemis so off-guard that he did the worst thing a Spartan could do: he questioned his King. "Sir?"

"I won't ask again," Leonidus said quietly, but still grinning. "Remove your cloak, Captain."

The Captain complied, but was now extremely confused. The conversation had also been brought to the men, who stopped whatever they were doing to watch the exchange. Captain Artemis had a right to be confused: when a Spartan was on duty, he wore his red battle cloak. To be asked to remove it while on duty meant the Spartan was relived of his duty, a dishonorable discharge of the time.

While Artemis undid the brooch that held the red fabric together on his shoulders, everyone was startled to see their King mirror the Captain's actions, removing his own cloak as well, still grinning. They both flung the fabric to the sides, out of the way. Leonidus got into a fighting stance, which the Captain mirrored with enthusiasm. The Spartan King and his Number One Captain were going to spar!

There was complete silence for a few minutes as they stared each other down, Leonidus with a easy grin of anticipation, Artemis wearing one of unsure enthusiasm. He had not spared with Leonidus since he had become Sparta's King, he wasn't sure what the protocol was. Was he supposed to let his King win through a subtle mistake on his part? Or should he put up a decent fight? But what if he did and embarrassed the King in front of the men...?

Leonidus did not give the Captain a chance to ponder his conundrum further before he lunged. If not for his quick reflexes, the Captain would have received one hell of a shiner. Without thinking, he dodged and blocked the second punch coming at him. He twisted under Leonidus' arms, but the King anticipated the move and stepped to the side, blocking the Captain. Unable to stop the momentum necessary to carry him through the move, the Captain used the only outlet available, and shoved Leonidus away as he forced himself back up. Off-balance, Leonidus tried to regain his footing, but fell flat on his back.

There was a stunned silence from both the watching Spartans and Artemis, who had a look of pure shock on his face. The whole thing had only lasted a few seconds, and he had been acting on instinct. "My King!" he said, reaching down to help the Spartan leader on his feet. Leonidus was shaking his head in an almost dazed fashion, before looking at the offered hand. He grabbed it as though to help himself up.

Captain Artemis was not exactly sure what had happened. One moment he as offering a hand to his king, the next he was on the ground instead and Leonidus was over him, hand to his throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing more difficult. "Forgive me, My King..." he gasped, trying to pry the hand away instinctually.

"Never apologize for winning," Leonidus said loudly for all the hear, looking directly into his eyes with calm power, "and never let down your guard." With that, he let go of Artemis, who started coughing as fresh air hit his lungs. He looked up to see Leonidus holding out a hand to help him up. "You think too much, my friend. Let us duel for real this time, fair?"

"Aye, Sir," Captain said. He should've known Leonidus would never had lost his balance that easily! The King had simply used him as a demonstration for the other Spartans to learn from. He hoped some of the warriors would keep that in mind for the Games.

Taking the hand and helping himself up, he took the preemptive and launched a punch towards the King's abdomen. The fight was on!

There were several rounds between the King and Captain. Similar to a boxing match, they would spar a moment or two and break apart, only to fight again. The Captain had brute strength on his side, but Leonidus was fast and agile. It was too even to call.

The men's support was divided; some shouted for the King and others for Captain Artemis. There was no punishment for those who supported the Captain; this was a simple exercise to rally the troops for the upcoming fights of their lives. Leonidus used this simple sparing match to both give tips and hints to the men, to help them with victory, and to show he was going to be alongside them for the ride as well. After all, they may win their battles, but he alone would have to win the war.

Both men were bruised, and the Captain was spitting out wads of blood every once in a while, but neither was ready to finish up the sparring match. Both were enjoying themselves greatly.

"Get him my King!" Stelios roared.

"He uses his feet, take them and take the King!" an older Spartan warrior, Dithurious, called out. He was an excellent fighter, and despite his age (he was close to forty-eight, old for a Spartan) he was one of the chosen Spartans for the Games. He had an eye for spotting his opponent's attacks and tactics, and excelled in hand-to-hand combat. Some teased that he was a Roman gladiator in disguise, to which he would growl angrily and stalk off. Now, however, he was enjoying himself greatly.

It was the final round; both were beginning to tire. They took up their stances again, and waited for the unsung signal to attack each other, when someone shouted over the roar of the crowd "My King, They've arrived!"

All the Spartans turned in unison to look up into the afternoon sky. Though the sun was bright, and he had to squint to see anything, Leonidus could in fact see a growing speck in the sky, and could in fact hear the thunder in the sky. As the speck grew, they could begin to see the shining chariot descending from clouds of light and thunder. Faster than any lightning bolt, the chariot came lower and lower until it flew over their heads. All the Spartans crouched and covered their ears from the deafening sound. They watched the strange chariot descend onto a small mountain that overlooked the city. The chariot all but disappeared, and the thunder died.

The Gods had arrived!

Leonidus turned to his men, all standing in awe at the shining chariot. The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear. "Time to welcome our honorable guests!"


End file.
